


Something I Gotta Say (Tom and Jerry)

by timeforteaaa



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, blowjob, handjob, highly unbelievable plot line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeforteaaa/pseuds/timeforteaaa
Summary: Kyungsoo and Jongin hate each other.At least they think they do.





	Something I Gotta Say (Tom and Jerry)

well hello there

THE TITLE OK THE TITLE IS TWITTERS FAULT. i was not gonna outright call my fic tom and jerry but there was some demand so it made its way in there and i might change my mind about it later ok but whatevs 

HELLO FLOWERS

I MISSED YOU ALL

looool i think this was suposed to be my valentines day fic. IM ONLY NEARLY A MONTH LATE HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONEE!!!1111!!!!

yeah. ive been owrking on this for decades and im glad its finally done although the enDING???????????? the ending is random and doesnt fit with the rest f the story reall cuz its all change basically this fic was going fine until i remembered i was going to smut and then i asdfghjkled 

OK I KNOW I ALWAYS SAY THIS BUT THIS COULD BE MY LAST FIC FOR A WHILE BECAUSE I REALLY!!! SHOULD!!!! BE !!!! FOCUSSED ON EDUCATION!!!! but im a juST A SUCKER FOR PAIIIN mmmkay yeah but you know what i mean 

DAMN I HPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS ITS RICH BOYS ENEMIES TO LOVERS KAISOO mmmmmmmm yeahhhh. 

WARNINGS IN THE FORWARD AS ALWAYS

rihgt i need to not ramble and post this damn thing then run away and hide for years ok please dont judge me we all know my smut is bad ok

STAY HAPPY STAY SAFE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

keep it cool keep it kaisoo, 

much love, 

TEAAAAA <3333

(also im sorry if my formatting goes weird as usual idk how to technology and also plz excuse any mistakes i tried to proof read but got lost and started cringing at myself so sorry if theres any bad flow/ grammatical errors i promise ill come back and edit some day)

 

 

“Finally, yet again, it’s Mr Kim Jongin who’s topping the leaderboard for this week’s quiz!” Professor Im stands at the front of the classroom, smiling broadly and clapping with the rest of the class as Jongin heads to the front to collect his award. 

 

Kyungsoo fucking  _hates_ him. 

 

Jongin bows, the picture of innocence, as he collects the caramel chocolate bar handed to him by the professor. 

 

That should be Kyungsoo’s chocolate bar. 

 

Jongin swaggers gracefully back to his seat, even having the time to throw a careless wink in Kyungsoo’s direction. 

 

 _Dick._ Kyungsoo thinks, less than charitably, to himself. It’s just the weekly pop quiz, but Kyungsoo can’t help but get himself riled up as he sees he’s pushed into second place for the fifth time this term by the only person in his class he can’t stand. 

 

“Better luck next time Kyungsoo.”  Professor Im smiles warmly.

 

Kyungsoo would very much like to punch him. 

 

“Class dismissed.” 

 

Swallowing down a scream of frustration, Kyungsoo begins packing his work materials away in his beaten up rucksack with unnecessary force. 

 

“Whoa, dude, chill.” Chanyeol says, glancing over at his seat mate and best friend. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo hisses. “I’ve had enough of him. He does precisely  _nothing_ in class, always does his work last minute, and then has the damn cheek to swan in here and  _steal_ what is rightfully mine.” 

 

“I really don't think it’s that serious—“ 

 

“— It is fucking serious.” Kyungsoo slams his book shut, glaring at Chanyeol. 

 

They should be friends really, Kyungsoo and Jongin. Their fathers are friends, they’re actually long term business partners, and their mothers went to school together. They’ve grown up as near siblings, being towed around to corporate events and sent off to play together. 

 

Yet they hate each other. Whereas their fathers used their competitive natures to form a strong, unyielding business team, Kyungsoo and Jongin’s natures have turned them into enemies. 

 

It started off young, over who could build the best sandcastle in the play pit. 

 

In school, it became who’s finger painting would be the most highly praised. 

 

Then, who’s essay received the best marks, who had the better social standing, who was favourite amongst the teachers. 

 

It spiralled into a terrifying rivalry, over the smallest and biggest things. The final straw was when Kyungsoo had caught Jongin and his then boyfriend (his  _first_ boyfriend) Hyunsik kissing in the corridor. The jealousy and hatred spilled over in his gut, leaving Kyungsoo venomously telling Jongin that he would  _never, ever_ be his friend and reminding him that they would be mortal nemeses for as long as they both should live. 

 

Chanyeol insists, now they are first year university students, that he is overreacting. Yes, the boyfriend thing was a low blow, but they were 13. Everything else is superficial. 

 

Kyungsoo admits that he would have let it die, but Jongin keeps stoking the fire. He is just as deep into this rivalry as Kyungsoo is, and it always seems that he, painfully, is the usual victor. But Kyungsoo is tiring and he knows that soon enough he is going to have to deal the final blow that will shut Kim Jongin up and put him in his place. 

 

Kyungsoo finishes an expletive ridden rant in his head as he forces the zip of his backpack shut. 

 

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows at him but gestures wordlessly that they should be going. 

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and storms towards the door, muttering angrily under his breath. 

 

“Hey, Kyungsoo?” He hears a shout from behind him. 

 

Jongin is leaning casually against his desk, flanked by Oh Sehun and Lee Taemin. An easy smirk slides across his face. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

 

 _Shit._ The Kims are coming over for dinner this evening. 

 

Kyungsoo snarls, before turning on his heel with a sneer and leaving the room before he has the chance to kick Jongin in the balls. 

 

He can’t fucking stand him. 

 

 

***

 

 

“Oh, and of course Jongin’s been asked to feature in Teen Vogue’s latest editorial!” 

 

Kyungsoo spears a tender chunk of venison on his plate with his fork. This has been going on all night. Jongin this, Jongin that; the Kim’s wonder son hasn’t left the topic of conversation since the moment the family stepped through the front door for one of their uncomfortably frequent dinner visits. 

 

Do Somi lightly taps the back of her son’s hand. “Now, now, Kyungsoo, the venison never did anything to hurt you.” She chastises quietly under her breath. 

 

Kyungsoo bites back a snarky response— no good will come out of being rude to his mother— and resolutely chews a mouthful of food, swallowing it with a gulp. He looks up, only to find Jongin looking back at him. 

 

Jongin is leaning back casually in his chair, and he takes a sip from his wine glass with a quirk of his eyebrows being the only acknowledgement he gives Kyungsoo. 

 

“Really, Jongin? I had no idea you were looking down a modelling route!” Kyungsoo’s father interjects in almost excitement. 

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. 

 

Jongin apparently notices this and sends a teasing smirk his way. “Well I wasn’t intending too originally, sir.” He begins. 

 

Kyungsoo notes the way his father preens, the way Jongin is so easily charming.  _What a suck-up._

 

“—But the editor approached me and I thought it would be an opportunity I couldn’t pass up on.” Jongin finishes. 

 

Kyungsoo’s father laughs a hearty belly laugh that is echoed by Jongin’s father too. “Well, Kim Jaehyun I’d be careful if I were you— you’ll be losing your company heir to the world of fashion if you aren’t careful!” 

 

Jongin laughs along too, extending his arm to clink glasses with the two men across the table. 

 

It pains Kyungsoo to think it, but Jongin is unfortunately handsome enough to be offered a modelling contract. He’s too snooty to not think that nepotism and family connections also helped him along the way a bit, but with cheekbones like Jongin’s it was only a matter of time really. Jongin has that natural, easy beauty; the elegant build, athletic body and striking features. 

 

“I wouldn’t speak to soon, Taeil, Kyungsoo is growing into a handsome young man too!” 

 

Kyungsoo snorts derisively, the sound covered by the laughter of the parents and Jongin. “I don’t think I’d do very well as a model. Too short.” 

 

“Hey, don’t say that, Soo.” Jongin’s knee brushes across Kyungsoo’s under the table. “I think your handsome face would make up for it.” 

 

Kyungsoo does not like being teased. It’s about time Kim Jongin learnt that. He narrows his eyes. “No thanks. I think I’d rather man up and take the reigns of my fathers business than spend my days prancing around having my photo taken.” 

 

A chilly silence falls across the table. It was a cutting blow, Kyungsoo realises, and for a second Jongin’s smile slips slightly and something— hurt? — flashes behind his eyes. 

 

Bile crawls up Kyungsoo’s throat. Something about that sight hurts Kyungsoo as well, but he shakes his head to dismiss any thought. Good. He’s happy he’s got to him.  _Snarky prick._

 

The moment is broken swiftly after, Jongin’s megawatt smile is back on his face and he soon revives the gentle banter with the adults sitting at the table. 

 

Kyungsoo finishes his meal in silence, forcing the food down over the lump in his throat. He tries to ignore the occasionally reproachful looks his mother sends him, and he disregards the feeling of Jongin’s leg pressing against his under the table. 

 

At the first available opportunity Kyungsoo fakes a wince and a simper. “I’m terribly sorry Mr and Mrs Kim but I’m not feeling all too well. If you’ll excuse me I’d like to skip dessert.” 

 

The Kims smile sympathetically. “Oh, Kyungsoo! Of course, please, go and take a rest.” Mrs Kim says, looking at him concernedly. “You do look a little pale, dear.” 

 

Kyungsoo nods shakily. “Your company has been lovely this evening, thank you. Have a nice night.” He says. If Jongin can do slime ball suck up then so can he. 

 

He sneaks a furtive glance in Jongin’s direction and notes that the boy is watching him with a furrowed brow and concern shining his eyes. 

 

Kyungsoo scoffs in his head. The Kims are such lovely people, it’s such a shame that they produced a son like Jongin. He has no doubts that Jongin couldn't care less about him, so the fact he has the indecency to fake concern makes Kyungsoo genuinely feel a little ill. 

 

He trudges his way up the spiralling staircase and sighs in relief as his room comes into view. At last, some peace and quiet. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s about forty minutes later, long after Kyungsoo has wrestled out of his dinner suit and into a sleep shirt and some comfy boxers, that he hears footsteps treading up the stairs. He expects its the butler coming up to tell him that the Kims have gone, so Kyungsoo snuggles back down into his bedlinen and hopes he can fall asleep soon. 

 

The are a couple of light knocks on the door and then it creaks open. “Kyungsoo?” 

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright. He runs a hand self consciously through his hair. That voice, deep and croaky from tiredness, does not belong to their butler. 

 

“Sorry, did I startle you?” Jongin mumbles quietly, stepping into Kyungsoo’s room. His dinner jacket his slung over his arm and his bow tie and a few top buttons of his shirt are undone. 

 

Kyungsoo ogles the revealed flesh for a few seconds before diverting his gaze. A fieriness in his belly flares up all of a sudden. Jealousy, of course. “No. You didn’t startle me. What are you doing in my room?” 

 

“Your parents sent me to check on you. Our families are having coffee downstairs and then we’ll be leaving.” 

 

“Good.” Kyungsoo mutters, throwing himself back down on his pillows, pulling the covers up underneath his chin. 

 

The room falls quiet. 

 

“Why aren’t you leaving?” Kyungsoo grumps, pressing his face into his pillow. Come to think of it, he does feel a little under the weather. A bit shivery. 

 

Jongin doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Just making sure you’re alright.” 

 

“Well you’ve done that now. Good bye.” 

 

Jongin scoffs. “You really hate me, don’t you?” 

 

“Yes.” Kyungsoo says shortly. “You make my life a misery but I have to put up with you because of my parents. You can’t say that you don’t feel the same way.” 

 

Jongin gives a cold laugh. “I guess you’re right. I’ll see you on Monday.” He says, and just like that he abruptly leaves the room, allowing the door to slam shut behind him. 

 

Kyungsoo can’t decide if he likes the silence or not. 

 

 

***

 

 

Jongdae is the ugliest eater. Kyungsoo realises this now as the boy sits before him, a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth and his lips smeared with mayonnaise. 

 

“‘M just sayin’” He splutters out, shoving even more of his chicken wrap into his mouth. “That you would fuck him.” 

 

Kyungsoo puts his own wrap down, his appetite thoroughly suppressed. He’s not sure if it’s Jongdae eating or the topic of conversation thats done it. “I would not.” 

 

Chanyeol snorts, elbowing him in the side. “Come  _on. Everyone_ wants to fuck Kim Jongin. Even you.” 

 

Kyungsoo’s friends can’t seem to get their head around the fact that Kyungsoo honestly hates Jongin. They know the full story, but they’ve still got some weird ideas in their heads that there is some sort of sexual tension between him and Jongin. 

 

“You know what they say, there’s a thin line between love and hate.” Baekhyun adds rather unnecessarily, nodding towards the entrance to the campus food court where Jongin and his friends are strolling in. 

 

Kyungsoo snaps his eyes towards the group, and feels the frown deepening on his face. He notes that Jongin walks with an incredibly pretentious wiggle, and it does precisely nothing for him seeing as he wearing those ridiculously tight jeans. The familiar flash of heat swoops through Kyungsoo’s stomach and he sneers. That hatred is going away no time soon. 

 

Kyungsoo follows Jongin with his stare right the way around the room until he sits down. Now the boy’s face is out of sight Kyungsoo feels a lot better. 

 

His concentration is broken by a peal of giggles rippling around his table of friends. “What?” 

 

“Dude you were so staring at his ass.” Chanyeol snorts into his coffee. 

 

“Actually that was me channelling all of my hatred towards him in hopes of some voodoo shit happening.” 

 

“Or it was you thinking about channelling all of your cock into that sweet ass.” Jongdae giggles, high-fiving Chanyeol across the table like it was the most original roast on the planet. 

 

Kyungsoo makes his disdain clear by flicking a grain of rice off the table top towards them. 

 

Baekhyun wipes a tear from under his eye and checks his eyeliner is still perfect in his phone reflection. After, he fixes Kyungsoo with a patronising smile. “Kyungsoo, honey, you have an almost morbid fascination with that boy—“ 

 

“—misuse of the word morbid—“ 

 

“Yes thank you English major, but you know what I meant. You think he’s hot.” 

 

“I do  _not.”_ Kyungsoo spits. 

 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Darling I’m a psych major. I know all of your tells; you can’t lie to me.” 

 

“The less I have to see him, the happier I am. Analyse that, Freud.” 

 

“Well,” Baekhyun steeples his fingers and Kyungsoo is struck with the awful feeling that he has made a terrible mistake with that statement. “If you’re asking for my expert opinion, then I shall willingly offer it. You are correct, normally a negative correlation like that would indicate that yes, you do harbour strong hatred towards Mr Kim.” 

 

“Exactly.” Kyungsoo huffs, boring a hole into his food with his eyes. 

 

“However, I feel this situation is a little different. I feel that the negative correlation is stemming from the fact that Kyungsoo is in denial. In Jongin’s presence, Kyungsoo feels sexual attraction and because he can't handle the fact that he feels this towards  _Jongin_ of all people, his attraction is translated into anger. When you see Jongin, you take out that anger on him, as he is the source of your discomfort. That obviously does not ingratiate yourself with Jongin, and hence the spiral downwards begins.” 

 

Kyungsoo curls his lip. “I call bullshit.” 

 

Baekhyun makes a noncommittal gesture and tosses a piece of popcorn leisurely into his mouth. “Just my opinion. If you want my advice, just ignore him. I don’t see why you let him get to you like that— unless, of course, there is an ulterior—“ 

 

“—Yeah ok, whatever.” Kyungsoo silences his friend. “That’s easy for you to say. I’ve been putting up with him for years, I’m allowed to hate his guts.”

 

Oddly, it is Jongdae that saves Kyungsoo’s skin by announcing loudly that they should be heading off to class. He and Baekhyun pack away their belongings quickly (they’re smart enough to realise that hanging around a pissed Kyungsoo is probably not the best move) and toss cheeky winks and flirty smiles over their shoulders as they walk away. 

 

Kyungsoo tries not to gag as he wipes his mouth clean on a tissue. He side eyes Chanyeol. “We’re stopping by the coffee machine before class.” 

 

“You don’t like coffee.” 

 

“I don’t care. I need coffee.” 

 

 

 

***

 

 

Coffee tastes like shit. 

 

It’s too hot and too bitter but Kyungsoo swallows it in large gulps, not caring that he’s scalding his throat. 

 

Chanyeol is doing that irritating thing where he hums to himself mindlessly as he walks. Normally, Kyungsoo tunes it out but today, with all the talking and the fact he’s been awake since 6am, he’s exhausted. 

 

He staggers into class and dumps his bag at his seat, slamming his forehead down on the table and silently waiting for the caffeine to kick in. 

 

He hears Chanyeol plop himself down in the chair beside him, still humming. “Now, I am not a wise man—“ 

 

“— A fact of which I am fully aware Chanyeol, thank you, now let me die in peace—“ 

 

“—but I’m not blind either.” 

 

“And what is that supposed to me.” Kyungsoo raises his head from the table, and winces at all the light. He takes another gulp of coffee for luck. 

 

Chanyeol gives him a knowing smile. “You like Jongin.” 

 

Kyungsoo nearly chokes on his drink. “Are you serious?” 

 

Chanyeol swallows down a chuckle as he goes bright red in the face and coughs violently. He offers his friend a few solid thumps on this back and when Kyungsoo can breathe again he says “There’s a thin line between love and hate.” 

 

“Yes, Baekhyun reminded me earlier. You are unoriginal.” Kyungsoo sighs. “Regardless, its a line I am very solidly on the hate side of.” 

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure—“ Chanyeol teases. 

 

“Oh, do you know what Chanyeol, fuck off. You should care more about whether Baekhyun’s going to suck you off or not, so keep the fuck out of my life.” Kyungsoo snaps. 

 

Chanyeol goes eerily quiet, looking down sheepishly into his lap. 

 

Kyungsoo feels bad almost immediately, the sick feeling rising in his throat as he looks at the sad smile Chanyeol currently wears. “Look, Chan— shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t— I’m really tired and I know you didn’t mean anything by it but I'm just… I’m sorry.” 

 

Chanyeol punches him lightly on the shoulder. “Nah, don’t worry, I get it. We do go on at you a lot.” 

 

“Still… I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know you’re not as— yeah.” Kyungsoo tries to make amends. 

 

Chanyeol chuckles. “Soo, it’s fine. Really. Anyway, I think you have bigger fish to be frying.” 

 

“Huh?” 

 

Chanyeol cocks his head towards the classroom door and Kyungsoo looks just in time to see Kim Jongin slinking leisurely in. 

 

Kyungsoo watches forlornly as Jongin strolls between the tables, tucking his ghostbusters t-shirt into his skinny jeans. “I don’t like him.” He mumbles. 

 

“If it helps, theres a difference between sexual attraction and romantic attraction. You’re allowed to think Jongin is aesthetically attractive.” 

 

Kyungsoo gnaws on his bottom lip. “He has a good ass, I suppose.” 

 

“That’s what we were trying to tell you at lunch.” 

 

A grin spreads across Jongin’s face as he approaches his usual seat, and suddenly Kyungsoo’s mouth tastes bitter. 

 

Oh Sehun is lounging against the wall and kicks Jongin’s chair back for him as his friend approaches. 

 

When Jongin throws himself down in the chair, the movement seeming flowing and fluid even though it was intended to be harsh, Sehun slings an arm round his shoulder and squeezes.

 

It hurts. Kyungsoo’s stomach hurts. Red hot heat sears his insides, something sharp and bitter lodging itself in Kyungsoo’s throat. He looks away, settling a hand over his tummy and taking a deep breath. It’s probably just indigestion. 

 

“Soo?” Chanyeol calls softly, looking at Kyungsoo with genuine concern in his eyes. “What do you feel when you look at Jongin? I won’t tell the others, I promise. Not unless you want me to.”

 

Chanyeol is a good friend. A really good friend, and Kyungsoo regrets that he is such a snarky bitch to him sometimes. He really cares about Chanyeol, so much so that Kyungsoo can’t lie to him. “I— I— My chest gets tight. I feel dizzy.” He’s embarrassed, most definitely, heat tainting his cheeks. “Right now, it hurts. Looking at him now makes me feel sick.” 

 

“And why do you think that is?” 

 

Kyungsoo keeps his eyes trained firmly on his notebook. “I hate him. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. He’ll always be the prized son that my parents wish I was.” 

 

Chanyeol nibbles his lip and sighs. “Do you want me to tell you what I feel when I look at Baek?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Exactly the same. I feel hot and dizzy and my knees don’t feel like they can take my weight anymore. I feel exactly the same as you.” 

 

Kyungsoo frowns. 

 

“Do you know how I feel when Jongdae leans his head on his shoulder, even though I know they’re just friends? I feel sick. My chest hurts. Exactly the same as you.” 

 

“That’s ridiculous. You  _like_ Baekhyun.” 

 

“I do. Very much so. I think you like Jongin too.” 

 

“No, I don’t.” Kyungsoo says as a knee-jerk reaction. The unsteady feeling of fear creeps down his spine. Fear of what, he isn’t quite sure. 

 

“Ok, I’m not saying you  _like_ him like that. Not necessarily.” Chanyeol side-eyes his friend. “All I’m saying is, you feel more towards Jongin that pure hatred. Even if its just that you think he’s hot, its something.” 

 

Kyungsoo is saved from answering by their professor strolling into the room, balancing an apple on top of his textbooks. He flickers his glance once more in Jongin’s direction and pretends not to notice Chanyeol’s smirk. 

 

 

***

 

 

The sound of his parent’s car rumbling out of the drive signals to Kyungsoo that he is now alone for the weekend. 

 

It’s been a week from hell with multiple quizzes and tests everyday and Kyungsoo is glad it’s finally over, even more so seeing as he’ll be alone until Monday evening. His parents have been invited to some swanky soiree in Busan and they’ve decided to stay a couple of nights. 

 

Kyungsoo had dismissed their butler when he’d asked if he’d be needed over the weekend, telling him he should enjoy the break and have some time to himself. It can’t be fun being ordered around by his parents every day, even if they are always overwhelmingly polite. 

 

And so Kyungsoo is surrounded by peaceful silence. He swipes a bag of popcorn from the kitchen and camps out in his room, flicking through the channels on the TV at the end of his bed in hopes of finding something to occupy himself with. 

 

There’s nothing decent on, so Kyungsoo’s messages Baekhyun for a bit, somehow being coerced into going to a party tomorrow night. He doesn’t know whose party it is but Baekhyun is adamant and it’s not like he has anything better to do anyway. 

 

In the end, Baekhyun has to disappear to look after his little sister so Kyungsoo tosses his phone across his room and does a mini celebration when it lands on his chair. 

 

However, there’s a problem with boredom, especially for a young man like Kyungsoo. Boredom leads to the mind wandering off onto often  _inappropriate_ trains of thought. 

 

Kyungsoo hasn’t had sex in an age and a day. 

 

He can’t even remember who he last had sex with, only that it wasn’t particularly mind-blowing and the guy’s body was kind of hot. 

 

Helpfully, his mind starts supplying him with images of other, hotter male specimens for him to enjoy— lean muscles, pert asses and flexing thighs— and as expected something twitches in Kyungsoo’s shorts. 

 

At least he has something to do now. 

 

He could watch porn maybe, to help himself along, but Kyungsoo has always favoured his own imagination. Porn is fake and forced and it lacks any sort of passion— and Kyungsoo is a very passionate man. Even if he’s just fucking to satiate lust there still has to be intensity for him to enjoy it, otherwise he’d just stick his dick in a hole in the wall to get the same pleasure. 

 

His imagination is malleable and broad and so Kyungsoo’s can get exactly what he wants and what he needs from it. 

 

He takes a deep breath through his nose and leans back against his plush bedlinen, letting his hand slide to the tent forming in his pants. Kyungsoo traces the outline contentedly for a while, teasing himself. 

 

He bites his bottom lip and squeezes around his cock’s outline just a little harder, feeling the blood starting to pool in his lower half.  

 

Kyungsoo isn’t particularly in the mood to rile himself up for hours on end. He just wants a little bit of stress relief for now, so he wriggles his shorts and boxers down to his knees so his cock can spring free. 

 

Kyungsoo releases a contented sigh as the cool air of his bedroom hits his cock, and he rubs his thumb over the head gently to get himself going a little bit. 

 

It’s normally Jo Insung, Kyungsoo’s favourite actor, who graces his thoughts whilst he's having some alone time. As Kyungsoo leans across to his bedside table to get his lube, he imagines Insung and his pretty smile and his towering height. 

 

Kyungsoo settles back further, shutting his eyes as he lubes his dick liberally, stroking down his length to get an easy slide. 

 

He knows what he likes, certainly, so it doesn’t take long for Kyungsoo to be pulling little moans and soft pants out of his mouth, digging his blunt nail into the veins starting to protrude on the side of his cock. 

 

Trapping his lower lip between his teeth, Kyungsoo closes his eyes and just  _imagines_. He imagines Insung’s hands all over his body, with tanned, strong—wait. 

 

As Kyungsoo’s eyes roll back into his head from the increasing pleasure, the more he realises he can’t seem to picture his fantasies properly. His hand squeezes at his cock as the thoughts of Jo Insung’s creamy complexion are replaced by images of long, caramel fingers tracing patterns all over Kyungsoo’s skin. 

 

Gone are the thoughts of Insung’s aquiline nose and thin lips. They’re being replaced— replaced by someone a lot closer to home. 

 

There’s fleshy, fat lips in Kyungsoo’s mind, nipping at his own and sucking marks into his throat. There’s lean, dancing muscle surrounding him now, and messy chocolate hair for Kyungsoo to sink his fingers into. “J-Jongin…” Kyungsoo whimpers, his fist slapping against his balls as the intensity builds and builds. 

 

It’s Jongin’s voice he hears whispering in his ear, its Jongin whimpering as Kyungsoo pounds into him and Jongin’s name is the only one on Kyungsoo’s lips as Kyungsoo screams into his pillow. 

 

It’s the most blindingly powerful orgasm Kyungsoo has experienced in a very long time, and it leaves him panting and shivering on his bed with come splattering his stomach and shirt. It takes a few seconds for the realisation to kick in, for Kyungsoo to realise what he’s just done. 

 

“ _Shit.”_ Kyungsoo hisses to himself, leaping up out of bed. He cannot believe he’s just got off to the thought of Kim Jongin. 

 

Positively mortified at his own actions, Kyungsoo stomps towards a cold shower, knowing that it will take more than a little while to get Kim Jongin whining his name out of his head. 

 

 

***

 

 

“I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” 

 

“Now now Kyungsoo we’ve only just arrived and you haven’t even had a drink so—“ 

 

“—We’re at fucking Jongin’s house.” 

 

“You said yourself you don’t have anything better to do. His house is freakin’ mansion, you might not even see Jongin tonight.” Baekhyun rolls his perfectly lined eyes and links his arm through a rather unimpressed Kyungsoo’s as they crunch up Jongin’s gravelled driveway. 

 

“I could have watched Netflix.” 

 

“You could have watched Netflix.” Baekhyun mocks, trying to pull Kyungsoo through the front door.

 

Kyungsoo digs his heels into the stones. “No.” 

 

“Yes.” Baekhyun insists. “You have to stay for one drink. I’ll let you leave after one drink, ok?” 

 

Before Kyungsoo has any hope of answering (or turning and running) Jongdae appears out the front door and slings an arm round Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “Kyungsoo!” He screeches, far too close to his ear. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight man!” 

 

“Neither did I.” Kyungsoo says grimly, tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt as Baekhyun disappears through the door. He’d gone for a simpler look tonight— a usual outfit of a tight-fitting long-sleeved black tee and his skinny jeans. 

 

“Well let’s get this party started then!” Jongdae hollers of the thudding base rattling through Jongin’s house. 

 

Kim Jongdae is unfortunately blessed with biceps twice the size of Kyungsoo’s head and so resistance is futile as Kyungsoo is dragged into the house. He thinks of all the beautiful pieces of China Jongin’s parents have around this place and cringes, hoping that Jongin will have thought to put them somewhere safe. 

 

Baekhyun suddenly flits to Kyungsoo’s side, squeezing past several partygoers clad in skin tight dresses. He pushes a red cup filled with a sour tasting liquid into his hand “Drink!” He commands. 

 

Kyungsoo downs it, wincing as it burns the back of his throat. “What is that stuff? It’s vile.” He scowls. 

 

Baekhyun shrugs. “Something to get you drunk quickly so you loosen up.” He grabs Kyungsoo’s upper arm and pulls him through the hallway, pushing him out into living room where he spots several of his friends already dancing. 

 

“Soo, you came!” Chanyeol yells, sticking out like a beanpole in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. He raises his arms and beckons Kyungsoo over. 

 

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, turns to a table scattered with bottles and pours himself another drink (its a foul cheap vodka that’s probably 60% bleach but he doesn’t care at the minute). He struggles his way through the crowd— avoiding any sly, reaching hands— until he finds himself in a small circle of his friends. 

 

From then on, the night starts to improve. 

 

It’s fun, dancing, and as long as Kyungsoo stays with his friends its actually great. They laugh and share jokes and Kyungsoo gets to cackle along with Jongdae as they force Baekhyun and Chanyeol to dance together, much to the pair’s blushing discomfort. 

 

He doesn’t get a peep of  _you know who_  all night and slowly but surely Kyungsoo starts to relax. 

 

His friends soon migrate to a slightly smaller living room, with dim lighting and sofas spread out around a drinks table in the middle. Kyungsoo isn’t drunk, but he is just a tad woozy, and he tips himself into one of the plush velvet armchairs with a silly grin. He reclines, legs akimbo, and smirks as Jongdae passes him a glass of a slightly more palatable weak punch. 

 

Baekhyun has collapsed onto a sofa opposite Kyungsoo and he waves his drink around grandly. “I have a proposition.” 

 

Jongdae groans loudly from his spot on the floor, whereas Chanyeol listens attentively. 

 

“And what is this proposition?” Kyungsoo asks, noting the pretty plasterwork on the ceiling. 

 

“I propose…” He pauses for effect, “That we play sardines!” Baekhyun throws his hands up expectantly. 

 

“What?” Jongdae squints. 

 

“Sardines? It’s like hide and seek.” 

 

“But it’s not hide and seek?” Chanyeol puzzles. 

 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes with a hearty sigh. “No it’s not hide and seek. It’s  _like_ hide and seek. Someone goes and hides, and everyone else playing counts to one hundred or whatever. Then, everyone goes off their separate ways and has to look for the person. When you find them, you have to get  _in_ the hiding place with them. Squash in, like sardines. And then the game ends when the last person finds you all.” 

 

“Oooooh.” Chanyeol sounds impressed. 

 

“—Did someone say sardines?” A slightly nasal voice pipes from the corner of the room. Kyungsoo hadn’t even noticed there was other people in here with them. 

 

“Yeah. Wanna play?” Baekhyun says enthusiastically, leaning over the back of the sofa to talk to the other person. 

 

“Sure!” The boy says. “You two, come on.” He beckons to two of his friends sitting with him. 

 

It’s only when they walk round the sofa to stand beside Jongdae that Kyungsoo’s stomach drops. 

 

He knew he recognised that voice. It’s Oh Sehun. 

 

“Oh hey, I know you guys.” Lee Taemin, one of the other boys with him, smiles angelically. 

 

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath as he turns to the third boy, his expression souring considerably. Kim Jongin. 

 

Before he has any time to object, Baekhyun is grinning and hopping to his feet. “Hey, this’ll be fun.” 

 

“I volunteer that Kyungsoo should hide first.” Jongdae grins, pointing a finger in Kyungsoo’s direction. 

 

“Wait— what why do I have to—“ 

 

“I second that.” Chanyeol pipes. 

 

It’s a testament to how inebriated Kyungsoo is that he refuses to argue the point and gets to his feet. “Fine, fine whatever.” 

 

“Great.” Baekhyun grins. “You have 100 seconds Kyungsoo, go.” 

 

Kyungsoo takes his cue to leave when everyone covers their eyes and begins counting, even Jongin who hadn’t said a word. 

 

Turning on his heel, Kyungsoo leaves the room and heads back out into the throngs of people, searching for a decent place to hide. If he’s playing this stupid game he might as well make an effort. 

 

The spiralled staircase seems to be a fairly good option seeing as theres less chance of tripping over drunks or couples making out across every surface. The pounding bass is still thudding in Kyungsoo’s skull and he's going to be glad to get away from it. 

 

Kyungsoo dips in and out room after room, taking glances at fine glassware and splendid chandeliers. Most of the rooms upstairs are empty, fortunately, so Kyungsoo can look around in peace. 

 

He can’t hear the other counting downstairs anymore, but he guesses he might have about a minute left. 

 

He slides down neatly polished floorboards, ducking in and out of rooms. He finds one room thats locked shut but the one next door, a cross between a library and a snug, is open. Kyungsoo hurries inside and finds a perfectly positioned broad arm chair hiding a small corner space. Realistically, theres only room for about two people to squash in there but he figures they can move the chair if needed. 

 

Careful not to bang his head on the bookshelf jutting out from the wall, Kyungsoo sneaks down into the space and fits himself in, preparing himself for a wait. He has no idea how far he’s travelled through Jongin’s maze of a house but figures it must be some way thinking of all the rooms he peeked into. 

 

The thudding of the music is muted now, more like a distant heartbeat and Kyungsoo thinks that Jongin must have fairly decent soundproofing. He bets that’s useful for— no, don’t think it. Kyungsoo scolds himself. 

 

It’s warm nestled here in the corner and Kyungsoo thinks he might fall asleep. He didn’t exactly want to come out tonight so he figures it wouldn’t hurt just to have a little nap. He’s just about to shut his eyes when he hears the door creaking open. 

 

Kyungsoo holds his breath. Whoever has entered the room doesn’t speak or call out, and Kyungsoo can only see a pair of shoes when he peers under the arm chair. It’s definitely not Baekhyun, but other than that Kyungsoo is at a loss. 

 

The person wanders round the room for a little bit, and Kyungsoo thinks they might be about to head for the door when suddenly the person spins elegantly, almost balletically, on their heels and begins striding towards the arm chair. 

 

Kyungsoo shuts his eyes as he hears the chair creak. 

 

“Kyungsoo?” 

 

_Oh fuck._

 

“How the fuck did you get all the way over here? This is the furthest wing.” It’s Jongin, eyes frowned as he peers at the space he has to squeeze himself into. 

 

Kyungsoo says nothing, only shuffling round in the little bit of space he has to allow room for Jongin’s to step into the space. 

 

“Jesus this is tiny. Do you realise when the others find us they have to fit in here too?” 

 

“I know. We’ll just move the chair.” Kyungsoo bites out. 

 

Jongin tries to sit down but Kyungsoo stops him.

 

“If you sit there your legs will stick out.” He hadn’t calculated on having to hide Jongin’s endless limbs. “You sit this side.” He instructs, and Jongin slides into the furthest corner from the entrance to the hiding place and sits down. 

 

Kyungsoo sits down next to him, the whole sides of their bodies pressed together, and forcefully blows out through his nose. They’re completely crushed in, there’s no room for anyone else. 

 

“There’s no need to get pissy.” Jongin scowls, folding his arms. 

 

“I’m not.” Kyungsoo hisses, folding his arms too. He’s not pissy, he’s just frustrated that so much of his body is touching the boy he jerked off to last night. It’s not like he can tell Jongin that though. 

 

The silence is stony. 

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes wander and begin tracing the weft of Jongin’s jeans. It’s strangely detailed, the weaving, and there’s a couple of dog hairs below Jongin’s knees. 

 

“Are you staring at my jeans?” 

 

Kyungsoo looks up all of sudden, shocked, and finds his face is uncomfortably close to Jongin’s. “W-What? No.” He flushes, avoiding eye contact. 

 

Oddly, Jongin doesn’t say anything, but Kyungsoo can feel eyes on his face for some time afterwards.

 

“For fucks sake.” Jongin says suddenly, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Cramp.” 

 

Kyungsoo shushes him, thinking he hears footsteps approaching the room. 

 

Jongin rolls his eyes and then does something quite unexpected. He spreads his arm out across the expanse of Kyungsoo’s thighs and lets his hand rest on the side of Kyungsoo’s knee furthest from him. 

 

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo deadpans, not daring to look at the limb spread out across his legs. He can feel Jongin’s warmth and its getting uncomfortable. 

 

“I’m trying to stop my arm getting cramp, idiot.” 

 

“What the fuck? I was just asking.” Kyungsoo shoots back. “People don't normally rest their arms on peoples laps.” 

 

“Well I am doing. We’re stuck here playing this stupid game and its not like I'm going to be uncomfortable.” 

 

“Why the hell are you so argumentative today?” 

 

“ _You’re_ the one arguing with me here.” Jongin huffs. 

 

Kyungsoo turns to glare at him. “No fucking way. You always do this. You always do your best to piss me off and then you blame me and say I start shit.” 

 

“I do  _not_. It’s not my fault you hate me.” Jongin hisses. 

 

Their faces are close, closer than they should be probably, but Kyungsoo is more focussed on this latest bout with Jongin. 

 

“I can’t stand you because you’re a dick all the time—“ 

 

“How the  _fuck_ am I a dick?” 

 

“—You suck up to my parents and play them into your hands so I get scolded for being the imperfect child—“ 

 

“—You do enough of that yourself.” 

 

“Oh well I’m sorry we aren’t all GQ models like you Jongin—“ 

 

“—Actually it was Teen Vogue.“ 

 

“—And you have the cheek to say I’m the one starting shit with you when you’re the one that kissed  _my boyfriend—_ “ 

 

“Kyungsoo for fucks sake that was  _years_ ago—“ 

 

“—You’re probably the worlds shittiest kisser but you still managed to—“ 

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t even have time to react when it happens. 

 

He remembers vaguely that he might have been staring at Jongin’s lips when the boy had been arguing with him. 

 

He doesn’t know how that translates to the situation he’s in now though. 

 

With Jongin’s hands cupping his face. 

 

And their lips crushed together. 

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t even realise that he’s kissing back. He doesn’t even realise he’s pressing against Jongin just as forcefully as Jongin is clutching him. He doesn’t think twice when his hands crawl up to fist in Jongin’s hair. 

 

They open their mouths, allowing their tongues to slide together at almost the exact same time, and Kyungsoo’s stomach fizzes when he hears Jongin emit a gruff noise from the back of his throat. 

 

It’s frantic by the time Kyungsoo thinks about what he’s doing. He gasps for air and wrenches himself back, chest heaving as he takes in Jongin’s face. 

 

Those swollen lips and hooded glassy eyes. Jongin’s breathing heavily too, his hands clutching at Kyungsoo’s side despite the twisted angle. 

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t want to stop. He can’t stop, not now. 

 

Not after months, maybe even  _years_  of yearning. 

 

They both move at the same time, both reach for each other in the same heartbeat. 

 

Kyungsoo’s movements are more akin to a pounce as he reconnects their mouths, this time pressing forwards to feel more of Jongin. 

 

Jongin twists, just slightly so he’s got more room and that’s when he pulls Kyungsoo into his lap. 

 

Kyungsoo fumbles frantically forwards, his knees on either side of Jongin’s thighs so he straddles the boy. 

 

Jongin groans lowly as Kyungsoo attaches his lips to his neck, feverish hands fumbling under his shirt. He tips his head back, giving Kyungsoo better access and his head thuds dully against the wall. 

 

Kyungsoo still cant comprehend what’s going on. He’s letting his body do the work for him and before he knows it he’s half hard in his jeans and by the feel of it Jongin is too. 

 

It’s not a conscious choice when Kyungsoo leans back a little bit to grind against Jongin’s hardness. The strangled cry Kyungsoo emits when their crotches come into contact is muffled by Jongin’s tongue sliding into his mouth again, his hands tightening around Kyungsoo’s hips as he gently guides them. 

 

It’s hot, too hot, and its after a few more minutes of ragged breaths that Jongin pulls Kyungsoo’s head back with a fist in his hair. He bites his lip as Kyungsoo’s eyes roll back into his head. “My room. Now.” 

 

Both of them should probably think about what they're doing. 

 

Neither of them want to. 

 

Their mouths connect again as they stand up, a tangled of excited and tightly wound limbs. 

 

“Fuck.” Jongin spits as he hits his head on the bookshelf standing up. 

 

Kyungsoo would in any other situation laugh. He’d point his finger and laugh at Jongin for hurting himself. Now, however, the only thought he can get to settle in his brain is that Jongin is really hot when he swears. 

 

Once they’ve untangled themselves from their hiding place they have a hard time keeping their hands off each other. Kyungsoo’s had enough of this waiting now, he wants Jongin. 

 

He wants Jongin splayed out on his marble staircase; he wants Jongin in every room of his house, across his bedsheets— he wants to be in Jongin and he wants Jongin to be in him and its all too much. 

 

It takes an awkward walk peppered by impatient kisses to lead them out of the room and down the corridor. 

 

Jongin stops at various intervals to press Kyungsoo against the nearest wall, seemingly unable to keep a hold of himself as he mouths hot wet kisses down Kyungsoo’s neck. 

 

There’s clacking of teeth, a fumble of hands and a jingling of keys before Kyungsoo feels the surface that he thought was solid behind him give way. 

 

He staggers a little, his eyes readjusting to dim lighting and he realises with a jolt in his stomach that he’s in Jongin’s bedroom. 

 

Before he can get a grip on his surroundings the world is suddenly spinning again and his back is pressed against the now locked door and—oh. 

 

Oh God. 

 

Jongin is sinking to his knees as his hands flutter with the fly of Kyungsoo’s jeans. 

 

Kyungsoo is so hard he can’t think straight anymore and his head knocks back against the door with a silent moan and nothing’s even happened yet. 

 

Jongin is focussed on his task, yanking Kyungsoo’s jeans down to just above his knees and palming roughly against the now unbearable hardness in Kyungsoo’s cotton boxers. 

 

“I’ve wanted this for  _years_.” Jongin’s voice cracks on the final word as he dives an enthusiastic hand into Kyungsoo’s pants, closing around his length. 

 

Kyungsoo keens at the back of his throat at the contact, and somewhere in his already fuzzy mind he realises that there’s probably something strange about the fact that Jongin hates him but would still say something like that. 

 

He’s quickly distracted, however, when Jongin gives his cock a few forceful tugs before he’s suctioning his lips around the tip and whimpering. 

 

The whine in Kyungsoo’s throat tapers out into a deep moan, and Kyungsoo’s hands fly up to Jongin’s head— one hand fisting in his hair and the other wrapping firmly around the back of Jongin’s neck. 

 

Jongin bobs his head rhythmically, taking in more and more of Kyungsoo’s length each time and its a matter of moments before he’s nearly burying his nose at the base of Kyungsoo’s cock. 

 

The sight is downright obscene and Kyungsoo’s heart is thudding madly at the realisation that Jongin really doesn't even need time to warm up. 

 

His cock is already hitting the back of Jongin’s throat and it makes Kyungsoo’s stomach fire up to think he’s probably done this with someone else. The thought makes him tighten his grip in Jongin’s hair, causing the boy on his knees to moan around his cock. 

 

“Fucking hell Jongin.” He pants, unable to tear his eyes away from Jongin’s face; his glassy eyes and stretched, puffy lips. It sends a surge of power racing through Kyungsoo’s chest as Jongin begins to stutter and groan around his length. 

 

It’s becoming too much, Kyungsoo’s thighs are shaking as he’s braced against the door and Kyungsoo knows he wont be satisfied if he ends up coming like this. 

 

He guides an almost frantic Jongin off his cock with a firm hand under his jaw. 

 

Jongin whines so loudly in desperation Kyungsoo thinks he could come here and now but he doesn’t, instead tugging on Jongin’s top to get him to stand shakily on his feet. 

 

Kyungsoo drags Jongin in to him with a fist in his t-shirt and crushes their lips together in another bruising kiss. He can taste something a little bitter on Jongin’s tongue, probably the taste of his own precum, but Jongin is sweet enough that Kyungsoo won’t stop. 

 

He’s just getting into the kiss again, enjoying the filthy slide of tongues when Jongin braces firm hands against his chest and shoves. Kyungsoo stumbles away, blinking hazily through blown pupils as he gets his eyes to focus on Jongin. 

 

“Fuck you, I was enjoying that.” 

 

“What?” Kyungsoo says as intelligently as he can, mainly down to the fact that most of his blood is currently pooled in his dick. 

 

“I said,  _fuck you.”_ Jongin emphasises, fixing Kyungsoo with a gaze intensified by his lower lip being caught between his teeth. “I was enjoying that.” 

 

“Enjoying what?” There is too much happening at the minute and not enough of the action is being directed towards Kyungsoo’s  _situation_ and its messing with his brain. 

 

“I was enjoying sucking your cock. You just had to go and be selfish.” 

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow. He drops his gaze to Jongin’s trousers and notes that there is an unmissable bulge there. He smirks, and thankfully the smooth talking part of Kyungsoo’s mind kicks in so he doesn’t have to think so consciously anymore. “Selfish? Me?” 

 

“Yes.” Jongin juts his chin out defiantly, although the plain longing in his eyes is still clear as day. 

 

“You’re the selfish one. Standing there with that body in those tight jeans and not letting me touch.” Kyungsoo shakes his head. 

 

There’s a moment of silence, of impossibly drawn out tension. They watch each other closely, both waiting to see who will be the person to step over the line. 

 

A breath later, it turns out its both of them. 

 

Seemingly driven by an unseen first, Jongin and Kyungsoo reach for each other at the exact same time yet again. Their lips rejoin and their limbs blur into rapid fumble of hands and this time its all the more desperate and a thousand times hotter. 

 

“Off.” Kyungsoo commands gruffly as his hands tug at the bottom of Jongin’s shirt. 

 

Jongin lifts his arms obediently so Kyungsoo can strip the garment off his body, and his own hands are wandering up Kyungsoo’s shirt and sliding over his pecs as sucks daintily on Kyungsoo’s tongue. He wants another moan out of him at least. 

 

It’s easy from there, tit for tat, one piece of clothing removed in exchange for another. 

 

Jongin’s room is a mess, but Kyungsoo can’t bring himself to care as he and Jongin tumble onto the bed together, still locked in a heated embrace. 

 

It’s Jongin whose back hits the soft mattress first with Kyungsoo hovering over him, raking hungry eyes down his body. 

 

“I can’t believe you kept this hidden for so long.” He grumbles, spreading his fingers out on Jongin’s defined chest. 

 

As Kyungsoo dips down to begin sucking deep marks into Jongin’s throat, he notes that Jongin’s body is pleasingly different from his own. While he is made almost wholly of built, solid muscle, bulging biceps and the like, Jongin has a leaner, more athletically toned body. 

 

It’s hot to say the least, and Kyungsoo revels in the way Jongin’s flexible frame arches and whines as he works his tongue under his jawline. 

 

They’re both in their underwear still and they’re both starting to tire of their own pace judging by the way their bottom halves rut together frantically, with Jongin’s legs clamped around Kyungsoo’s hips. 

 

“Do you— have lube?” Kyungsoo questions in between licking languorous kisses into Jongin’s mouthing, tracing the outside of the boy’s plump lips with his tongue. 

 

“B-bedside table.” Jongin stutters, a damp patch adorning the front of his marl grey boxers. “Hurry up.” 

 

“Don’t get snarky with me baby.” Kyungsoo warns, cracking his palm against the outside of Jongin’s thigh. 

 

The endearment is unexpected and so is the slap. Kyungsoo panics momentarily, but notices that Jongin’s only response is to blush violently and release a tiny choked moan. 

 

Kyungsoo retrieves the lube, shuddering as he realises its nearly three quarters empty. Jongin clearly spends a lot of his time enjoying himself. “Whose topping?” Kyungsoo scratches out, his throat hoarse with lust. 

 

Jongin shakes his head frantically, his hands roaming across every bit of Kyungsoo’s body and sliding down under his box to give his ass a firm squeeze. “W-we don’t have time I— need this now.” 

 

Kyungsoo grunts when Jongin slips his hand under his boxers. Desperate needy Jongin is sexier than he imagined. He climbs up onto the bed beside Jongin, and pulls his boxers down in one fluid movement. 

 

The little wiggle of delight Jongin gives at the sight of Kyungsoo’s cock, now standing tall and leaking, is frankly endearing, but the sentiment doesn’t last long as Jongin too kicks off his own underwear in a hastened struggle. 

 

He throws himself against Kyungsoo again, melting into another kiss. Jongin’s hand seizes Kyungsoo’s and directs it towards his own cock, lying red and angry against his stomach. 

 

Kyungsoo tuts with as much courage as he can muster and pulls back momentarily to lube up his hand. 

 

“Please please please please please please.” Jongin chants, his forehead pressing into Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he rocks back and forth gently. 

 

They’ve positioned themselves in an entangled cross legged position, with their legs tucked under and over so their cocks can press together. 

 

Kyungsoo presses a soothing kiss against Jongin’s temple, an intimate move he’ll panic over later, but then he wraps his hand around Jongin’s girth and the drawn out sigh leaving Jongin’s lips builds into a moan. “That’s it…” Kyungsoo grins. 

 

Jongin’s cock is pretty and its a nice weight, so Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate to spread the lube up and down it in smooth, languid strokes. 

 

Jongin hisses and his hand reaches up to clench onto Kyungsoo’s bicep. 

 

With a soft, almost proud smile on his face, Kyungsoo rubs the blunt pad of his thumb over Jongin’s head and watches drips of precum oozing out of the tip. 

 

“For fucks sake.” Jongin whines, leaning back against his pillows a little bit. “I would like to come this side of Christmas, thanks.” 

 

Jongin is a brat when he’s horny. 

 

A challenge sets behind Kyungsoo’s eyes as he meets Jongin’s carefully schooled unimpressed gaze. He quickens the speed of his strokes, watching as Jongin’s facade begins to crack. 

 

Jongin lets out a relieved breath of air. “That’s more like it.” He sighs over a moan, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

 

Kyungsoo feels something odd squirm in his stomach, something different to raw lust, but it drives him to lean in and press gentle biting kisses against Jongin’s mouth. 

 

Jongin responds eagerly, cupping his hands around Kyungsoo’s face and licking into his mouth as his hips start to buck up into Kyungsoo’s hand. 

 

Kyungsoo is getting so lost and distracted in the endless spiral of Jongin’s soft skin that he almost forgets that he is painfully hard until he feels long elegant fingers reaching forward to wrap around him. 

 

“Oh fuck.” He mumbles, his head dropping forwards. 

 

Jongin lets out a giggle, his voice a little strained, as he strokes Kyungsoo’s cock with steady teasing draws. “You’ll be coming in seconds.” He teases. 

 

“No I won’t.” Kyungsoo’s pride is momentarily hurt. “You will.” He increases the tempo of his hand working on Jongin’s cock, this time using gentle twisting motions and letting himself wander to fondle Jongin’s balls. 

 

In response, Jongin’s hand livens up as well and he works Kyungsoo with less finesse but more animalistic tugs. 

 

They make eye contact for a brief moment, and that’s when the challenge really sets in to place. It’s becomes a competition in which neither of them are determined to come first. 

 

Their foreheads press together and their lips ghost over each others, occasionally pressing together more forcefully as if the contact is the one thing that keeps them both going. 

 

The room is fairly quiet except for the sounds of their harsh breathing and the slick, sloppy sounds of their fists working over each other. 

 

Kyungsoo captures Jongin’s lips in his again and tries to ignore the heat coiling in his gut. He bites at Jongin’s plush lips, forgoing any skill and finesse in his kisses as his heart pounds numbly in his chest. 

 

Jongin lets out weak whimpers sounds, his hand going slack on Kyungsoo’s cock every now and then as everything begins to get too much. But he’s determined, definitely, and his steely resolve comes back even though his eyes are glazed over and theres a little bit of drool leaking out of his mouth. 

 

“Keep going baby, you can do it.” Kyungsoo reminds him, but even to his own ears the plea sounds a little like it was directed at himself as well. 

 

He can feel himself getting close, and judging by the moans coming from Jongin he is too. 

 

Kyungsoo channels every last bit of energy he has in keeping his vision straight, and he works his hand diligently over Jongin as he traces the veins down his length. 

 

Jongin flops fowards again, his lips falling just off centre of Kyungsoo’s. “P-please, please, Kyungsoo  _please._ ” 

 

“You’re nearly there love, nearly there.” Kyungsoo comforts. 

 

Jongin gives a desperate cry at the endearment and he pulls back to realign his lips properly so he can taste Kyungsoo again. “‘M gonna come.” He mouths. 

 

“Me too.” Kyungsoo confesses as he feels the all too familiar tension winding tighter and tighter as Jongin writhes desperately before him. 

 

Kyungsoo can’t bear to deny Jongin any more and its as he sinks the blunt nail of his thumb into Jongin’s head that the boy screams and his cock spurts white up against their chests and over Kyungsoo’s hand. 

 

The scene before him is enough to push Kyungsoo over the edge too, the heavy pressure in his balls releasing in a shower of fireworks behind his closed eyelids. 

 

Kyungsoo whole body stiffens as he releases, as his blood sings in his veins and his nerve endings  get fried with the overwhelming heat and ecstasy that floods through him. Everything is too hot, too powerful and Kyungsoo’s eyes can only see white. 

 

It’s addictive, this feeling. 

 

It takes a few seconds, but when Kyungsoo’s vision clears he's laughing. He’s actually  _laughing_  because  _fuck_  he feels good. He feels drunker now as well, as if the alcohol had lingered in his system and waited just for the right moment to mix with the deluge of hormones to create such an intoxicating heavy mix. 

 

Jongin is shivering and shaking as he comes down from his own high, drawing deep, shuddering breaths through his teeth. 

 

Kyungsoo notices this and reaches out clumsily for him, pulling him close to his chest. He rocks him back and forth gently, murmuring incoherent praises and declarations to the boy. 

 

He has no concept of time, but Kyungsoo knows by now that he’s exhausted to the bone. “We should sleep.” He fumbles out. It takes some effort, but he manages to manoeuvre them both under Jongin’s plush duvet where its warm and snug. 

 

They haven’t cleaned up and they’ll probably feel disgusting in the morning but no one cares as Kyungsoo sleepily tucks Jongin in with him and snuggles him to his chest. 

 

The last thing Kyungsoo registers before he falls asleep is Jongin pressing a hot, grateful kiss to his shoulder. 

 

***

 

There’s intense light streaming through the windows. 

 

Kyungsoo blinks a couple of times as the brightness hits his eyes, and he squints accusingly at the morning sun. His bed is comfortable and he’s warm and he feels like he’s had his first decent night’s sleep in ages. 

 

 

He’s just about ready to close his eyes and fall back to sleep (so he can ignore the beginnings of a hangover headache drilling at the back of his skull) when he realises he isn’t at home.

 

When Kyungsoo looks down into the bed, he suddenly remembers where he is and why he feels so comfy and well rested. 

 

Jongin is snoozing comfortably on his chest, with his arm slung over Kyungsoo’s waist. There’s a bit of drool pooling in Kyungsoo’s collarbone and his left side is a getting numb but Jongin looks  _cute_. Sleepy little puppy. 

 

It’s a little overwhelming, all of these feelings, if Kyungsoo’s honest. 

 

He’s comfortable like this, here in bed with Jongin in his arms, but he needs a moment to let himself breathe. 

 

Kyungsoo slides out from under the covers, being careful not to disturb Jongin in anyway, and takes a few seconds to stretch. He’s still naked from the night before and he still feels a little boneless, but Kyungsoo manages to reach down and pull on his boxers before he strolls towards Jongin’s balcony doors. 

 

He pushes back the soft white curtains and steps out onto the balcony, taking a deep breath of the morning air. There’s a light, cool breeze but its more on the refreshing side and Kyungsoo revels in the peace and tranquility as he looks out over Jongin’s parkland. 

 

A smile creeps its way onto his face as he thinks about the night before. It’s nice. It’s just really really nice and Kyungsoo’s heart is filled with contentment along with a little bit of confusion. 

 

As far as he was aware he hated Jongin and found him irritating. 

 

It’s becoming a little clearer to Kyungsoo that perhaps that wasn’t the full story and maybe, just maybe, he was being blind to his own feelings. He grins to himself and shakes his head. Maybe his stupid friends are right. Maybe Baekhyun’s psychology analysis speaks the truth.

 

He turns and glances back into the bedroom, and he lets his gaze settle on Jongin’s still sleeping form. Again, it makes his chest swell with pride seeing him lying there, his tanned skin contrasting with his bed sheets and a cluster of purpling marks across his throat. 

 

Kyungsoo attempts to rationalise things. What would his friends ask him if they were here?

 

Could he see himself enjoying a repeat of the night before? Most definitely. 

 

Could he see himself holding Jongin’s hand, kissing him softly and cuddling him? That sounds perfect. 

 

Could he see himself being Jongin’s boyfriend, holding him through the triumphs and tears and being proud to tell the world that he was his? 

 

Yes. Kyungsoo could. 

 

Kyungsoo rubs a hand over his eyes, laughing a little at his own idiocy. He’s such a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions and hormones but there seems to be one clear thought process that’s winning through. He’s supposes it’s time he came out with the truth, not only to himself but also to Jongin. 

 

He sits for a few more minutes, basking in the early sun’s warmth, before he hears the balcony door clicking open behind him. 

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t turn, and instead waits for Jongin to sit beside him. 

 

Jongin has chosen to cover up with a loose satin robe, and he smiles awkwardly as he sits down beside Kyungsoo. “Good morning.” 

 

“Good morning.” Kyungsoo greets, smiling genuinely. “Did you sleep well?” 

 

Jongin coughs a little, his cheeks flushed. “Y-yeah. I did actually.” 

 

They sit quietly again, looking out over the sunrise, before Jongin pipes up again. 

 

“I—I think we… have some stuff to talk about.” He mumbles. 

 

“I think so too.” 

 

Jongin takes a deep breath. “Last night was—“ 

 

“—Great.” Kyungsoo interrupts honestly. 

 

Jongin stutters and flushes. “Y-you think so?” 

 

Kyungsoo turns and smiles at him. He doesn’t intend on doing it, but he reaches over and gently brushes Jongin’s fringe out of his eyes. “I do. It was really really great. I’m not gonna lie, I’m still confused. This time yesterday I was convinced you were the bane of my life and now here I am waking up with you after… last night.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Jongin shakes his head. He looks like he might cry. 

 

That hurts Kyungsoo’s heart more than he expected, the sharp pang cutting of his breathing for a second. “N-no, don’t cry.” He hurries out. “I—God, Jongin you have nothing to apologise for.” 

 

“I do though. I do. I have a lot to apologise for. I’ve treated you horribly for years. I kissed your boyfriend because I was a jealous shit who couldn’t handle the fact that you liked someone else. I broke up your first relationship for my own selfish reasons. I’m sorry for that. I really am. I didn’t mean to make you hate me.” 

 

Oh. Well that comes as a little bit of a shock. 

 

Kyungsoo sidles up next to Jongin who’s dropped his head into his hands. He awkwardly wraps an arm around the boy and pulls him close to his chest, resting his chin on his head. “I’m sorry too. I’ve not been the nicest I could have been to you and that’s not fair of me. It wasn’t— isn’t— fair of me to cast you aside just because I can’t wrap my head around my own feelings and I couldn’t handle the fact I wasn’t the perfect son. That’s my fault, not yours, and I feel that if I’d just listened to my heart sooner we could have sorted this mess a long time ago. I don’t blame you for acting the way you did towards me.”

    “I know they say you shouldn't judge your emotions after one night of drunken sex but I… fuck, Jongin I  _enjoyed_ it. And I think I would enjoy it if it were to happen again and I think I’d enjoy doing other stuff with you too. I— I was hurt by what happened with Hyunsik, but I wasn’t hurt for very long. We were young and I didn’t really care that much and it was my own stupid pride that made me hold onto it and use it against you. I’m sorry for that too.” 

 

“I like you.” Jongin sniffles, rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his dressing gown. “I’ve liked you for years.”

Guilt rises up Kyungsoo’s throat but he batters it down. Why was he such a prick? But, what’s done is done, and he has the opportunity to make things better now. “I like you too. More than I can say, Jongin. More than I can admit to myself.” He takes a steadying breath. “I’d like to… I’d like to take you out sometimes. I’d quite like to call you mine, if you’ll have me. We can take it as slow or as fast as you like because I’m sure you’re probably as lost as I am but… I’d like us to… I don’t know.” 

 

Jongin nods softly. “I’d like that too.” He nudges a little further into Kyungsoo’s chest and Kyungsoo squeezes him fondly. 

 

There’s clearly been mess-ups on both sides. There’s been miscommunication and jealousy and a whole host of other problems but they’re out in the open now and things seem just a little bit clearer. It’s awkward, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and Kyungsoo is confident they’ll pull through. They’ve waited this long, its about time the universe finally started aligning. 

 

Neither of them is really sure what they should do next. They settle into silence again until Kyungsoo feels Jongin shivering lightly, the breeze evidently having seeped through to his skin. “Are you cold?” 

 

“Just a little.” Jongin nods. 

 

Kyungsoo chest constricts from how adorable he looks. “Come on. I think we deserve a few more hours sleep at least.” He takes Jongin’s hand and leads him back into the bedroom. 

 

Kyungsoo dives into the messy bedsheets gratefully, but peers out again when he notices Jongin hasn’t joined him. 

 

The boy stands awkwardly by the side of the bed, twisting his fingers together. “I—I just wanted to say thank you. I— I get really oversensitive when I… come so I need good aftercare and you cuddled me and that was nice and people don’t seem to realise that so… thank you.” 

 

The declaration is painfully sweet and Kyungsoo gets oddly emotional and has to stop himself tearing up. “You’re welcome.” He says softly, lifting up the covers so Jongin can climb in comfortably. “Get some rest and then we’ll have some breakfast when we wake up again.” He reassures. 

 

Jongin hums sleepily, words already defeating him as he nestles down into Kyungsoo’s side again. 

 

Kyungsoo is tired, and his eyelids are heavy. A tiny smile crosses his face as he closes his eyes. “Sleep well, baby.” He mumbles into Jongin’s messy hair. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s odd but Kyungsoo thinks this might be what love feels like. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

that ending tho loooooooooooool talk about whiplash

 

 

 

 

come have a folla and a holla

 

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**Author's Note:**

> cross posted from asianfanfics (timefortea)!!!!


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